


grasp

by cosywoo



Series: swallowed by the feeling [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: (ie. thigh fucking), Intercrural Sex, Nipple Play, Other, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, it's just seonghwa getting fucked by his own tentacles lets be real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25673890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosywoo/pseuds/cosywoo
Summary: It’s lonely in the dorms alone, Seonghwa finds. He’s gotten far too used to the company of the rest of the group, the comfortable companionship, the hand holding and kissing and closeness over every moment spent together. It really doesn’t help that he’s pent up in more than one way, being horny in more than one vessel, by all intents and purposes.
Relationships: Park Seonghwa/Park Seonghwa, Park Seonghwa/tentacles
Series: swallowed by the feeling [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861576
Comments: 8
Kudos: 135





	grasp

**Author's Note:**

> so. this happened while i was starting to write a separate sequel, which is still in the works. this comeback and seonghwa's facial expressions... i'm blaming all of that for this, thank you. most beautiful. phew  
> this is a follow on piece to clutch, but can be read alone without too much confusion. seonghwa has tentacles, that's all you need to know!

It’s lonely in the dorms alone, Seonghwa finds. He’s gotten far too used to the company of the rest of the group, the comfortable companionship, the hand holding and kissing and closeness over every moment spent together. He doesn’t feel jealous that he’s missing out on it, as much as he’s just missing it in general, the bellowing and rough and tumble play fighting the others get up to when they have too much pent up energy. He misses hearing the nightmarish shrieks from Wooyoung when San gets bitey over nothing. 

He snorts at the thought nonetheless, curled up in Hongjoong’s bed and holding his pillow, nuzzling his face against it quietly as he relaxes. It’s nice to be able to calm, at least, drifting in and out of sleep with confidence that the rest of the boys won’t be home until after rehearsals, hours away. His hip hurts less now he’s been resting in bed for a few days, only flaring up when he’s tried to go to practise to watch and pick up notes. 

Hongjoong has all but wrestled him into mandatory rest time now, insisting he either sleeps and rests and heals, or he’s out of the group and being replaced with a mop on wheels. And as much as he’d love to see Park SeongMop, he’s laying naked in bed for the fourth day in a row, half humming along to the tune echoing in his head. 

It really doesn’t help that he’s pent up in more than one way. Having a hip injury means limited methods of getting off, and he’s too sad about missing the boys to rub one out, and everyone else is too tired once they get home to help him, and he gets it, he really does, but fuck it’s hard being horny in more than one vessel, by all intents and purposes. 

Ever since their first experience with Wooyoung, his tentacles have been barely satiable, writhing to be touched and stroked and felt at all times,  _ especially _ when it’s least appropriate. It’s inconspicuous enough to anyone who isn’t looking, but Wooyoung’s already learned to pay wicked attention to him whenever he’s bouncy, laughing when Seonghwa is reduced to rolling his shoulders and huffing as the tight confines of clothing keep him from feeling anywhere near comfortable. 

It’s worse now, even with all the alone time he can stomach, laid out on his good side with his tentacles wrapping around anything they can find, squirming under the mattress for some kind of sensation that mimics a warm hole. It doesn’t work. There’s nothing warm or wet about the underside of a mattress, and it just works to get them equally annoyed. 

He checks his phone for the fifth time in an hour, huffing when it tells him it’s not even noon. One of the thinner tendrils wraps around his arm, almost coy in how it sucks at his skin gently, asking for permission. He doesn’t resist, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back a smile when it coils all the way up to his shoulder, the tapered tip opening to suck at his collarbone. That’s a new addition he’s had to get used to; now that they’ve been granted a shred of experience, there are new horizons of need, a constant urge to wrap and suck and cling. 

Things are still for a while, a slow, dull rhythm settling in as he relaxes, squeeze and release, squeeze and release, until his arm is half numb and full of pins and needles. “Ouch,” he scolds half heartedly when the wrapping is a little too boa constrictor-esque, curling his hand around the tentacle and squeezing back, laughing softly when it seems to find it like a game to play. “Be careful, please. It’s hurting.”

Seonghwa isn’t really sure when he started talking to the somewhat sentient being inside him, but he’ll blame it on being stuck in bed listening to them slip and curl and tangle with each other, becoming more brave about settling around his limbs when he isn’t asleep. It’s progress, he guesses. In just a few short months, they’ve gone from alien and vessel to... acquaintances. He can’t call himself a friend of something that’s living inside him rent free with added hassle, especially when there’s no way to know what it wants after all this, or when it’ll  _ leave _ , but still. 

Sometimes he thinks about naming them, but then they get in the way with ever curious feeling, exploring every inch of every surface they find, stalling him in almost every single task he carries out beyond sleeping. Sleeping is blissfully calm now, they’ve gotten into a mutual routine of relaxing, and he’s learned to find comfort in the ever present movement, like a fleshy lullaby. 

More exposure to the world beyond Seonghwa’s back has made them infinitely more frustrated, even more than when they hadn’t experienced anything beyond second hand sex, and it’s making his own needs worse when they insist on curling around his limbs for comfort. He knows they’re linked in body, but the extent of the connection is... unclear. He knows when they feel pleasure, but whether they return that is ambiguous at the best of times.

But then days like today happen, and he’s convinced they know exactly what they’re doing. 

The anatomy of their tangling is still confusing to him, he can never quite turn the right way in the mirror to see  _ exactly _ how they spill out of him, but he knows they take up most of his back, eventually taking up enough space with the thickest tentacles to almost create a second layer on his back for the rest to unfurl. He feels a little like a turtle with a living, breathing shell, pressed close up to him and... ah.

“Hey,” he says softly as a particularly adventurous tendril snakes over the backs of his thighs in search of stimulation, just beneath his cheeks. His quiet protest does nothing in his own favour, only making it drape over the fronts of his thighs instead, squeezing itself between the side of his thigh and the bed and constricting, pressing his legs together. “ _ Hey _ ,” he says more firmly, wincing when it pulls further and starts doubling over, definitely one of the longer ones, “I’d like to keep my legs, please. Can you be more gentle?”

If they can actually understand him, they don’t seem bothered to comply, only offering a squeeze as the same tentacle digs beneath his thigh again to complete a second loop, pressing itself between its own coils and pushing at Seonghwa’s squeezed thighs, easing its constriction to allow a more comfortable journey. 

When Seonghwa looks down, he can watch as the curious tip pokes through the front of its own steadily loosening grip, glistening, and he can  _ feel _ the slide as it pushes, ridge after slippery ridge. “Ah,” he bites his bottom lip, tensing his thighs experimentally and cringing when he finds himself holding back a whine. Eventually the third wrap around his thigh runs out of length, leaving him just a moment of relief before  _ all of it _ starts moving again, like the inside of a machine, working to spite him. “Be  _ careful _ ,” he complains lightly, shuddering when the tentacle curves towards him in response. It feels like a threat. He narrows his eyes. “I’m on bed rest. Calm down.”

He closes his eyes in the hope it will calm the apparent suggestion that he wants his thighs fucked (which isn’t a  _ lie _ , but bed rest is bed rest and he’s being good and taking advice). The tentacle slows for a moment, before snaking up over his torso. It’s almost a relief to know it isn’t one of the suckered tendrils, until the little tip grazes over him and sucks like it’s on a mission, barely wider than a fingertip but dutiful all the same. 

A whimper escapes his lips before he knows what’s happening, opening his eyes to see fleshy midnight blue closing over his left nipple, suckling and fucking  _ biting _ by the feel of it, sharp barbs grazing lightly at the skin around his areola. Seonghwa pouts instinctively, clenching his thighs around the tentacle when it starts moving again, slow and steady and achingly patient, back and forth like the rocking of a boat on a lake. The tip stays firmly around his nipple, unmoving when he rests a hand against the length of it to grip lightly. 

“Please,” he whispers softly, lashes fluttering when he notices the stillness in the rest of his usually busy tendrils, curled close around his limbs but not clinging... holding. It dawns on him, finally, that it was unavoidable for them to not feel every pulse of pleasure from the other members, everything that’s sent sparks flying through his body. “Please, please... more, it’s okay.”

He’s not sure why his first instinct is to reassure, but the mass seems to warm at his gesture, embracing him kindly and welcoming him to half lay on his back, cushioned easily as he’s moved with the slow writhing. It’s blissful on one end; his thighs have always been just a little too sensitive, and paired with the restriction he’s being pushed further into a blissful mindspace, just the warm, fleshy pulse between his legs. 

But the other half of him wants to be  _ touched _ , more than just his nipples, gasping shallowly as the tentacle leaves the left bud in favour of his right one, leaving Seonghwa to stare for a moment at how swollen it looks, glistening and stiff. His cock aches, he knows how hard he is without having to look, only made worse by the stimulation he’s getting everywhere he loves it but nowhere he  _ needs _ it. 

_ It has to be intentional _ , he thinks as a slim, suckered tendril makes its way to his throat, one of the ones that  _ always _ leaves marks, settling to suck and pull at his collarbones for a moment with the smallest cups, teasing. His eyes roll back and close as the coil around his thighs shifts once more, working up further until the thickest loop is almost slotted over his pelvis, nestled just where his cock has been pushed up against his belly, hot and hard and painful. His cheeks burn as a sense of shame bubbles up inside him; he’s being teased by the very thing that relies on him to  _ be _ , it knows more about him than he’d dared to consider. 

His brain short circuits when it moves again, rolling slow and firm against his balls, holding him too tight and too close to try and hump into the sensation between his legs. It undulates with no clear goal beyond making Seonghwa suffer, swelling and beating like a warm heart against him as it fucks slowly between his thighs, ever more slick and pooling clear, sticky liquid onto the bed. 

“I need more,” Seonghwa gives in with a whimper, fluttering his lashes when the tendril at his collarbone  _ finally _ snakes up to his throat, wrapping hastily enough that he squawks in surprise at the change in pace. He rests his arm against the mass behind him, pressing and sighing in content when it sinks, wrapped over again and again, held. Three coils settle around his neck, heavy and snug and secured with wide, warm suckers, squeezing comfortably until his breathing rasps. 

For a moment, he focuses outside of himself, groaning at the internal thrumming when he tunes into what he’s come to see as a busy hive mind, feeling himself externally, his arm, his thighs, his stiffened nipples, his empty throat. He senses how his mouth opens, tongue hanging out dumb and patient as his body operates on autopilot, needy and willing. A twinge from his hip almost pulls him back to his core until it dulls as quickly as it flares up. 

One of the base tentacles is restless, pressing close and wrapping around his waist. Just one loop is enough to cover him from his navel to the middle of his ribs, holding him tightly in what feels like a sign of possessiveness as the movement between his thighs both tightens and increases in speed, coiling once more as the tiny mouth loses interest in his nipple, the length of it pressing close and rubbing against his cock as it travels towards his mouth. He feels the vibrations of speech against the suckers at his throat, indecipherable as he floats in the bliss of sensations.

It’s overwhelming, being so heavily aware of his own body but feeling it from the outside, as the tendril meets his tongue and laps in tandem, equally curious. His throat strains as he leans forward to suck, whining petulantly when the chance is taken from him completely, driving Seonghwa’s own waking mind further from his body and his frustration. 

A warm, slick feeling over his cock drags him back with force, yelping hoarsely at the squeeze around his neck and waist. “Please,” he wails when the sensation around his cock moves back for a moment, glancing down to see one of the suckered tendrils rubbing against his length almost affectionately. It’s different to how he’s ever seen any of them; the usually slender head now opened and deep, exposing plush, fleshy insides. He ruts as much as he can, craving the primal pull and grip of anything. “I wanna-... let me, please, I need s-something…”

He shakes in the embrace of the creature, moaning when he feels a tentacle press between his cheeks, made difficult by the firm grip still around his thighs, but persevering all the same to flicker against his entrance, firm and slippery. He’s almost glad he can’t do much in the way of moving, craving both the velvety warmth of something to fuck and the thick stretch of being filled. He just  _ needs _ , quiet and helpless, waiting to be satiated. 

Seonghwa writhes, straining once more to mouth at the tentacle waiting just beyond his lips, moaning when it allows him to kiss messily along its ribbed length, growing lightheaded as his throat is squeezed further through his desperation. He’s eventually eased back with a pull at his arm, sobbing weakly in frustration when his one worse of satisfaction opts to stroke his cheek, an effort to calm him. 

Relief floods his senses when the tip at his entrance prods once more, pressing and immediately stretching him with just three or four ridges. It’s one of the base ones, patient and still as it fills him with warmth until it pools, more and more until it feels like it’s ready to seep, just building pressure in his abdomen when it finds no way to spill out after a fifth, fatter ridge sinks past his rim. 

His stomach aches, uncomfortably taut as the tendril sinks one ring deeper, making him see stars at the way it fills him so entirely already. His eyes close, sinking into the melding of pleasure between them both, mouth agape and panting gently as he’s filled further, steady and thick and unyielding in its press. 

It feels  _ good _ , being held and kept close. The tentacle around his thighs eases its grasp, if only to allow a closer press over his perineum. He pushes back, wincing lightly at the protest in his hip and stilling when the hold around his waist tightens protectively, welcoming him further as a few tendrils caress his legs. He’s still hard, painfully so, but there’s something about the feeling of being surrounded that leaves him twitching and pliant.

A further, more forceful push leaves Seonghwa whimpering and shaking all over, sobbing brokenly when the warmth around his cock returns, velvety smooth and slick as it fucks itself on his length. The tentacle inside him ripples to ease itself further, sending blissful, trembling waves through his body and pushing him gently into the soft, plush caress.

“Thank you,” he breathes as he cums breathlessly, no real lead up after what feels like hours of being teased, only the same blissful, singing high as he’s milked through his orgasm, swallowing hard against the squeeze and letting a tear slip out when the sensations continue. It’s all so slow and measured; like water lapping at the shore, keeping him thrumming all over in the unrelenting push and pull.

His right arm paws at the sheets when the appendages continue with their pleasuring, opening his mouth instinctively when he feels a flicker at his lips, laying slack as it explores his tongue, settling flat and heavy. He closes his lips around it when it feels safe enough to relax without being punished with removal, sucking slowly in mindless tandem with the pull and squeeze at his cock. 

For a moment, everything melts together in Seonghwa’s brain, perfect harmony as he lets his guest lead, host and passenger, vessel and drone. His body opens his eyes, glancing down to gaze at the visible bulge beneath his skin, met with his hand to rest his palm over his flesh, fluttering when the tentacle inside him squirms lightly to greet him. With the movement comes the noticeable shift around it, feeling the squelch of thick fluid beneath his fingertips, coaxing a whimper as more tears pool.

Unexplainably, he feels wave upon wave of tenderness as he watches himself being fucked, oxytocin, dopamine, serotonin, his mouth falling open in blissful awe. It curls visibly, stretching out further until the outline of the head disappears beneath the tendril at his waist, moaning shakily when it squeezes in unison with the coils at his throat, making him  _ feel _ , laying in stunned silence as his head spins, his waking thoughts fuzzy and distance as he’s cared for. 

The tendril in his mouth doesn’t push anything, allowing him to drool around it as he tenses lightly, cumming once more with a whimper and a press to the thick outline under his skin, trembling all over when the pleasure overwhelms him. His body stills for a moment, tendrils pausing in concern until his fingers twitch, and he sobs softly at how they  _ care _ , pulsing with desire in place until he moans. 

“It’s okay,” he tries to speak, barely blushing when it comes out garbled and weak around the tendril in his dry mouth, sucking eagerly when it releases warm, honey-sweet fluid, swallowing against the slowly relenting grip on his throat, jolting weakly with every pull of the suckers as they ease away from his skin. 

He mewls when the warmth around his cock squeezes and pulls, sucking smoothly until he twitches, shaking his head minutely as he tenses to hold back another orgasm, wailing when it makes the tentacle inside him even more noticeable. His hips nudge forwards into the clutch of the tendril, panting shallowly and nuzzling his cheek against the pillow.

The tentacle that had been settling around his perineum has a change of heart, Seonghwa feels it thrum as it rubs against his rim, seeking to press with its thicker counterpart. It’s far more slender, but he’s already stretched wider than he thought imaginable, sniffling as the tentacle at his throat finally moves in favour of caressing his cheek. 

“N-nngh,” he whimpers as the smaller tendril burrows its way inside, squirming when it settles its head right against his prostate, rubbing smoothly until he resorts to clawing at the sheets, his left hand twitching and clinging to one of the dark, slippery appendages, white hot pleasure flowing through him as he bursts. The tentacle at his waist holds him steadfastly, keeping him close as he arches his back through the overwhelming warmth, moaning sharply when it keeps going. 

He registers it too late to panic, too busy clenching all over and twitching, that he feels full all over, hot and sluggish and fuzzy brained. The tentacle inside him convulses, as it has been for at least a minute, easing the heavy pressure in his abdomen, and it really dawns on him that he’s experienced two orgasms in one consciousness, trembling all over and succumbing to pleasure once more, letting himself be milked by warmth and comfort. 

Seonghwa loses track of how long he stays in the glow of it all, until he’s limp in the clutch of the mass, spent but full to the brim with warm energy. His eyes flicker as his sensations bleed into faint pushes and pulls, wincing when the pressure in his abdomen eases, almost unfamiliar with the feeling of emptiness. It’s still inside him, he can feel himself through it, warm and snug around finally calming ridges, united in quiet. The smaller tentacle inside him eases out, the one over his cock motioning to move, stopping when he vaguely protests.

For a while they stay silently entwined, calm in the smooth, velveteen bliss of each other. The tendril around his waist serves as more of a comfort than a hold, keeping him settled close as he comes back to himself. His mouth is empty, a few smooth tentacles almost cradling his face, finding he’s been rubbing his cheek against them like a sated cat. “Thank you,” he says again, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears for a moment, whimpering softly when there’s more movement.

He’s still until the tentacles ease from inside him and around his now soft length, wrapping around him to hold his body carefully, tender as a lover. His left arm is released, allowing him to curl up in the living nest he’s settled in, hands clasped comfortably as he rests, spent and golden. 

Beneath him, the tendrils continue to move slowly, rocking him slowly into a quiet lull, peaceful and sleepy as rests. A distant fleeting thought passes through his mind before he succumbs to dreaming; his hip feels better. 

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to hongjoong's bed that this all happened on, the sheets will not survive  
> [come get freaky on twitter!](http://twitter.com/gaywooyoungie) it's always a good time uwu


End file.
